


But You Can Sure Try

by Shadsie



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Controversial Fan Theory, Five Stages of Grief, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4972729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadsie/pseuds/Shadsie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In body, Link was dying.  In mind, he was trying to fight the death of a terminal land.  The moon leered down and the fever was rising. Time was running out.  Sometimes, you can't fight fate, but you can sure try.  </p><p>
  <i>Fun with a controversial fan theory (not one I subscribe to, but that never stops a writer from playing). </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	But You Can Sure Try

**Author's Note:**

> _Disclaimer and Notes: The Legend of Zelda and related properties belong to Nintendo. This is fan work playing upon mere fan-theory and one I don’t even “believe in,” per se. I just wanted to play with it. As such, I do not want to see whining in the reviews about how this “doesn’t fit on the official Timeline” or “messes up the Timeline” or about how “Link is supposed to die in the Lost Woods and become a Stalfos.” This is a purely speculative piece that deliberately tosses Timeline considerations out the window. That is the point._
> 
> _This was inspired by conversation with a friend in which we were discussing a popular theory about the world of Termina as well as the meaning of the world’s name._

**BUT YOU CAN SURE TRY**

 

 

Link was dying. 

 

The sky above him had shifted from red and black to blue with white clouds.  He could smell a sudden greenness beginning to overcome the cinder-scent of ruined earth.  There was the stench of blood, though, blood, blood, blood, blood…

 

The Hero had managed to stand up and to deliver the final blows to the dark beast, Ganon on the power of adrenaline and will.  Once he’d driven the Master Sword into the swine’s skull, his body had given in and he’d fallen to the dirt.  He’d heard a multitude of voices at once, all familiar.  Zelda had called the Sages to send their enemy into the Void. 

 

Link could hear Navi panicking above him.  Fairy-panic was an interesting sound, almost like gentle bells or wind through the trees, at once high and tinny, but almost like white noise.  Link’s chest was heavy.  His stomach hurt.  At first there was a horrible ache in his legs and thighs, but he could not feel them anymore. 

 

Agony shot through his entire body for a moment as he felt the ground falling away from him.  There were hands on his back – no – a hand, just a very big one.  Darunia had picked him up.  Link turned his head and looked at him.  “I don’t have any heal-fairies,” he said.  When did his throat get so dry?  All of the fighting had left him slick with sweat. All the smoke of night magic and battlefield debris had made his eyes sting and his throat sore.  He tasted iron and did not know if it was from a split lip or something welling up from deep within him. 

 

“We’re gonna get you some help!” Navi assured him.  “Just hang in there, Link!” 

 

Link focused his sight on Navi.  Everything hurt less when he was watching the dear fairy.  He felt his body trying to force him into a sleep.  He tried to lift up a hand and couldn’t.  He needed to reach Navi.  That much he knew if he remembered nothing else. 

 

“I did it, didn’t I?” Link asked. 

 

“Yes,” Navi said, “Yes you did.  You should be very proud of yourself.”

 

 

 

 

“Yes, you did,” Tatl said impatiently.  “You should be very proud of yourself! You agreed to help that creep out and we’ve only got three days – this on top of everything else!”

 

Link looked down.  He toed the brickwork of the south side of Clock Town with the tip of his right boot.  He’d taken a look up and immediately looked back down.  He’d seen the moon in the daytime before, but never so large and never so menacing.  The moon in Hyrule didn’t have a face, much less one filled with such malice. 

 

“What is it, kid?” – An impatient sigh.  Tatl wasn’t quite like most fairies Link had known.  She was as shrill as Navi, but not nearly as kind.  “Eh, the moon’s just ugly today.  Don’t tell me that you’re afraid of it!”

 

“Uh…”

 

“You act like you know something awful.” 

 

Link looked up.  “I don’t think anything good is gonna come from that moon.  It looks like it wants to fall on us.  Did it just move closer?” 

 

“Come on you big baby.  Let’s ask around town.  We need to hurry up and find the Skull Kid so I can get my brother back and so you can get your precious item back, and… that mask that weirdo was talking about.” 

 

Link watched the carpenters in the center of the square, thinking they might be a likely people to begin an investigation with.  They were building a scaffold.  They looked strangely familiar – like the group of carpenters he’d rescued from the Gerudo prisons. 

 

The boss was hollering loudly.

 

“It’s not gonna fall! If you flee, consider yourself fired, you cowards!”

 

 

 

 

“His wounds are evil,” Nabooru said, covering a blackening gash back over with a bandage.  “Ganondorf – well, Ganon… the Beast… he must have sent some power of darkness into his great swords.  The tribe has known him to poison weapons.” 

 

“I can’t seem to dispel it,” Zelda said sadly.  “I’m not powerful enough!”

 

“You should keep trying, Princess,” Navi encouraged.  “But don’t exhaust yourself.”

 

“Well, ever since I saw him grown up, I have wanted a better look at his body,” Nabooru said with a rueful smirk.  “Not quite like this, though.” 

 

“Link’s a fighter,” Navi assured.

 

“At least he’s been asleep,” Zelda said, watching the gently breathing young man before her on the bed in the room at the inn in Kakariko Village.  “Those darkening wounds are nothing I’d want to feel.”  She reached over to his head and gently stroked his hair and one ear. He wrinkled his nose, but remained asleep. 

 

“I’m really more of an eye woman, myself,” Nabooru said.  “I was struck by those beautiful blue eyes of his more than anything.  I wish he would open them.  I’d like to see them again.”

 

“Don’t we all,” Zelda sighed. 

 

 

 

 

Link had finished the task for the Deku Scrub.  The mask that had taken over his body had filled him with sorrow and anger.  “I don’t want to be dead…” it whispered into his mind.  The mask was quiet, but there was the overwhelming feeling of “I don’t want to die.”  It was cold rather than panicked, however, as if it was the lament of someone who did not have a choice in something that had already been decided for him.  Link’s body felt like wood when he wore the mask, a stiff, unpleasant feeling for one used to muscle, moisture and skin.   

 

Link had a choice in wearing the mask now, at least.  Whomever this face had belonged to, the mask needed him to save his people – including an innocent maiden and a friend who was an innocent criminal.  He took up his sword and fought through the corrupted temple.  He was going to change the fate of this swamp!  Link knew that the corruption here was connected to the moon and the coming fate of this entire world.  He had foreseen it – with himself and Tatl saved only by the sacred Ocarina of Time. 

 

The world would burn again if he did not get a move on…  It was time to fight fate.

 

“We need you,” the mask spoke into his spirit.  “Don’t die.” 

 

 

“We need you, Link.  Don’t die.  Please?” 

 

Nabooru sat aside, watching Saria as she sat in a chair beside the bed and held Link’s hand.  A Kokiri was not supposed to be outside their forest, but Saria had ascended as a Sage and did not suffer any apparent problems. 

 

“All we can do is wait and hope,” the thief-made-innocent said to the maiden. 

 

“The fairies aren’t working,” Saria said forlornly. Navi and her own guardian-fairy were gently bobbing close to her head.  Saria had called healing-fairies out of the grass, but Link’s wounds were deep and were too infected with evil magic for the benevolent spirits to help the boy as they had previously.  Navi had tried her own energies, but she was a guardian fairy and did not have the ability for magical medicine. 

 

Various friends were in and out of the inn room.  Princess Zelda was elsewhere in the village, trying to organize Hyrule’s survivors. 

 

“It’s been a day and a half,” Nabooru said.  “I’ve seen friends wounded in raids sleep off their injuries longer and come out alright.”   

 

During that evening, Darunia came in to see his honorary brother.  Link’s eyes cracked open a sliver.  He tiredly looked at Daruina and smiled.

 

“Do you see me?” Darunia asked.  Link fell back under before answering.  The young Hylian did not hear the Goron chief’s cries to the rest of the village that there’d been a change in his condition.

 

 

 

“You see me?”  the gray Goron-spirit asked as he floated in the cold air of the snowy village. 

 

Link nodded.  The ghost was clearly just that – transparent and floating, a being that only the Lens of Truth that Link had just won had revealed to him.  Link decided that Goron-ghosts were interesting.  Darmani looked hefty, as heavy as a great boulder or stone statue although he was not solid and had no substance.  Darmani begged Link to bring him back to life, which even a determined young hero could not do. 

 

All young Link could do was to heal his soul with a song and to take up his quest.  Link knew what he was doing now.  The Giant of Woodfall was free and so the remaining Guardians needed to be liberated.  It was all connected to the Skull Kid and to the moon. 

 

It was closer now, glaring down.  Link had repeated a cycle and had even slowed time’s flow to try to win more of it.  He wondered why it was just the clock that ticked more slowly:  None of the people he interacted with – living or dead – seemed to do anything differently.  That horrible moon still seemed closer than it should have been. 

 

He did not like repeating time.  He’d feel a throb through him, like twisting angered wounds. His breath felt like it slowed and sped.  Link wondered if it had done something to him.  He felt like he should be taller.  When he’d been back home in Hyrule, he’d felt like he should be small.  Time was not kind to its Hero. 

 

Link felt the heft of a Goron’s body overtake his own flesh as he tried on the Goron Mask. Strangely enough, he thought he felt the ferocious wound that had killed Darmani – if the appearance of his ghost was any guess.  The wound did not appear upon Link’s Goron-body, but he still felt it. 

 

Darmani had disturbed Link.  He was a nice enough spirit, but he looked so much like his friend, Darunia.  Seeing him was like seeing a dead version of his friend.  Link did not like the thought of saying goodbye to his friends. 

 

It was not long after he’d met the remains of Darmani that Link watched a strong young man die in front of him.  He had tried to save Mikau, but was too late to be of any service other to be someone there so that the poor wounded Zora didn’t have to die alone.  Link had shared an immediate connection with Mikau – a bond of creative musicians.  Of course, the Zora was brave, too – letting his dying words come out in vibrant song, wailing on his fishbone guitar.  It had been a strange death, but one that Link could respect. 

 

When he wore the Zora Mask that resulted from playing the Song of Healing, a maturity beyond Link’s years flooded into him.  Link had never before wondered what it would be like to have children, for when he’d grown up in the forest, he was sure that he was a Kokiri and Kokiri never grew up to have offspring.  A more familiar emotion flooded into him, however, after that fatherly protective urge.  Mikau had some fame – as had Link back in Hyrule by the time he went to challenge Ganondorf.  He hadn’t asked for it – he just felt compelled to help people with their problems along the way. As a result, he was known by many and at least one person had named their son after him. He did not know if he was known at all anymore, due to coming back into his child-self. He would be known in that other time, the one he was no longer a part of.  Link knew that people would tell the stories the way they saw fit – the legend as it served them.  

 

The boy got the feeling that Mikau had never asked for the fame he’d gotten so much as he just liked to play music.  The artist’s soul had burst out of him and he was known all around Termina – hence the posters Link had seen in Clock Town, though most of them had featured the female lead-vocalist of the band. 

 

Link felt a whisper telling him “People will make you what they want you to be.  Most of them will be more interested in their image of you than in the person you really are.”  - Such was the price of fame.  Link also got the sense that it was the price of dying. One could never control the thoughts and memories of others, nor the legends one would leave after oneself. 

 

The boy felt, strangely, like he was in the process of leaving behind a legend even as he took up the story of a Zora warrior’s bloodline. 

 

“Do you really want me to play at being you?” his mind asked the Mask.  “I don’t think I’m able to do a good job.  You were in love… I don’t know what that’s like for adults.”

 

The Zora Mask assured him that he should do whatever he needed to do keep those he loved safe.  “Let me be what they need me to be.” 

 

What a strange mask Mikau had become.  The scent of his transformed body was almost intoxicating, as was the scent of the silent singer, Lulu.  Link had rather liked the smell of Zora.  People who’d only ever seen pictures of them expected them to smell fishy.  They did, in a way, but not in the decaying fish way that most people assumed.  They smelled like water tumbling over rocks and like rain.  It was a rather distinct odor. 

 

When he’d spoken to Lulu, however much he’d wanted to secure a dead man’s legacy, his mouth said one thing and his mind screamed another.   He let her believe that he was Mikau and assured her that he would rescue the eggs and bring back her lost voice. 

 

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby…”  

 

His mind reached out for its own voice, unspoken in the world of Termina, moaning elsewhere. 

 

 

 

 

“No… I’m… not your fiancée.  I never was… the truth…the truth is…” 

 

Link was rolling around a little and muttering something about being too little for commitment and not being ready to be a father.

 

“Easy,” Ruto said as she gently generated water and washed Link’s hair using a bowl. She dabbed a wet cloth over him. Ruto felt offended.  She did not expect him to make good on the promise that had involved the Zoras’ Sapphire – not now, at least.  She’d more or less had wanted to just get her father off her tail back then.  Link was a different species, so it probably would have never worked out.

 

“Ssssh, Link,” Impa imparted as she adjusted the blanket over his body. “He must be having quite a dream.” 

 

“Technically, he is engaged to me,” Ruto said.  “I don’t think he understood it at the time.” 

 

“We haven’t seen him this lively yet.  I wonder what you did to wake him up, even though he is still well out of it.”  Impa sniffed. 

 

Ruto gave her a glower. 

 

Link mumbled something else in his sleep.  “Alright… I’ll be… what you need me to be.”

 

“What was that?” Impa asked. 

 

“One day, maybe you’ll remember who I really was.” 

 

“He’s sweat-slick with fever,” Ruto said.  “Maybe it’s my cool Zora skin, but I can feel his heat.”

 

 

 

 

The moon drew closer.  Link did not know if he could fight fate, but he could sure try.  The canyon was scorching, but he strangely felt at home.  It was a bleak place where the remains of child soldiers could not rest. 

 

Link could not convey to them how much he felt alike to them. 

 

The shadows and skeletons seemed to beg him to stay.  One did not have to worry about one’s impending demise whether by a falling moon or anything else if one was already dead.  They’d done their darndest to make him stay, too – between the Garo in the shadows, the dancing ReDeads, a scientist who’d destroyed his own body and the beasts of the Stone Tower. 

 

Link still fought fate and still shouted a challenge to the grimacing moon. 

 

There was one last thing he had to do before he went to face the Skull Kid and the wicked Majora’s Mask that was feeding upon his desires for destruction.  Link worked very hard to reunite the separated couple whose troubles he’d learned about in his journey.  Anju reminded him of a kind lady who liked cuccoos that he’d met in Kakariko Village.  She’d cared for the birds despite an allergy.  He’d learned that Anju loved cooking despite being terrible at it. They fought fate and never won, but kept trying.  The young hero understood Kafei in greater measure than he could ever convey – “What’s my age again?” was a question that wasn’t a joke or an abstract for either of them. 

 

As he brought the Sun and the Moon together, Link was pained with a thought for Zelda.  He missed her terribly.  He could only be with her again, to play as friends or perhaps some day to dance as adults once he’d managed to correct the ills of this land and to find his way home. 

 

He had the sinking feeling that it wouldn’t happen.  Fate grinned down at him as the world got hot. 

 

 

Navi rested upon Link’s chest as the world heated up.  Link fidgeted subtly, like a dog chasing a dreamland rabbit. The fairy noticed how the fingers of his left hand twitched as though he thought he was holding a sword. 

 

 

 

Link looked down at his own face in his hands.  The mask wasn’t entirely like him, but it bore a resemblance.  The Fierce Deity – purportedly a Mask of awesome power, was built only for the fight.  Link wondered whose soul it might carry – as it was implied that he’d take on the form of a god if he wore it.  He feared that power.  He had to use it, however, if he wanted a sure and quick way of breaking Termina’s curse. 

 

The boy felt the Mask flush with his skin and with it a flood of various experiences and memories.  This was _everyone_ – He felt like he was wearing everyone he ever knew.  It was like swimming in their spirits, leaving his wake.  It wasn’t just everyone in Termina, but everyone that they seemed to represent for him – all of his friends and acquaintances and enemies in Hyrule. 

 

He was taking them with him, into him. 

 

He was leaving himself behind. 

 

He’d broken the curse with some decisive strikes of the double-helix sword.  With it, an old friend was free – a lost child, not so lost anymore.  He’d fought fate and won.  He knew that much as he looked up at a moonless sky. 

 

Somehow, he thought that he’d also lost – that he’d tried to fight fate, but lost.  It was, however, alright with him.  There was peace. 

 

Link spied upon the people of Clock Town.  He would carry them and, even though not all of them would know it, they would carry him.  He’d fought through and accepted that he could not stay forever.  This was not a place he belonged to anymore.

 

Tatl helpfully nagged him to get going.

 

 

All of the Sages were gathered in the small room.  Zelda let tears fall down over her cheeks.  Navi shivered.  She did not like what she had told everyone, but facts never cared for the feelings of fairies.    

 

It was dawn of the fourth day after Link had triumphed over Ganon and freed Hyrule. The marking had faded from his left hand. 

 

Impa took Link’s pulse a final time and shook her head.  She sighed. “He fought bravely and saved us all,” she said, “but even the bravest cannot fight fate forever.  Even a newborn’s life must fade.  The Hero of Time is dead.” 

 

Zelda ventured a look at him, knowing that the dead were not beautiful.  She did, however, see the faintest and gentlest of smiles upon his face.  

 

 

 

 

Fate was behind him.  Link looked off into the darkness of the forest.  He gave Epona a gentle kick and rode off into the depths of the unknown.    

 

 

**END.**

**Shadsie, 2015**


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